Two Poems by Steven Bruce

 

Fractured

 

For most,

the early mornings

are a rush.

 

For most,

the late afternoons

are clamorous.

 

The sunlight

shows our sorrows,

and we are too busy

to notice.

 

We go unattended

into the noise.

 

We become

a little more

 

f r a c t u r e d.

 

We drift apart

from ourselves

 

until the reflections

are not our own.

 

We drift apart

from each other

 

until we are so alone

the ache becomes routine.

 

The night comes, and we sleep

and hope to remember our dreams,

 

that they will still come true.

 

The blue transmutes to black,

and we are dead to the world.

 

The stars hold their tongues

above us as if in quiet reflection.

 

The saccharine moon bows

as if in mourning for our hearts.

 

 

Solace

 

Another day rushes

by like a riderless horse.

 

Finally, the clock hands land

at quarter to midnight.

 

Sitting here at this keyboard

with coffee and a cigar.

 

Bach plays low.

 

Inside, a moth beats its wings

like a fatalist drum.

 

Outside, the crickets compose

lunar symphonies.

 

Someplace, a ravenous wolf

grips the nape of a deer.

 

All of us wild

and fighting for our lives.

 

In the fragrant wilderness

of this blue night,

 

my heart sings along

with the other nocturnal beasts.

 

 

Steven Bruce is a poet, writer, and award-winning author. His poetry and short stories have appeared in magazines, webzines, and anthologies worldwide. In 2018, he graduated from Teesside University with a Master's Degree in Creative Writing. He is the recipient of the Indies Today Five-star Recommendation Badge. Born in the North of England, he now lives and writes full-time out of an apartment in Barcelona.